#and then they like... try to talk me out of it??? or get relieved when i tell them i will meet up with people

[wosoamazing]

Newest Signing

Part 1 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: This is the first part of my new Leah Series, I have already started writing and planing parts of it but if you have any ideas let me know and I will try and include them.

Leah sat on her phone scrolling through various social media platforms, it hurt to see so many other people happy, with their partners when she wasn't, she had never had a successful relationship, to her no one was right, no one was the right match, she didn't feel like they clicked. So many of her exes told her that she had 'too high standards' or that 'soulmates don't exist' or something along the lines of 'you aren't perfect so why do you expect someone else to be perfect'. However she wasn't looking for a soulmate, she wasn't looking for someone perfect, she was just looking for the someone who was perfect for her.

She had started to think that maybe she was just asking for too much, and that her standards were too high, but that was until the day Jonas introduced the team to Arsenal's newest signing.

"Girls this is Y/N Y/L/N, she is our newest signing, and yes she did sign outside of the transfer window as approved by the FA due to issues at her old club, but no further questions on that please. She isn't going to be fully joining training until our Portugal training camp, just so she has some time to settle in but also a well deserved break, but you will see her in the gym and around the place, so please make her feel welcome. I think she is going to be really great for the team."

Her eye's immediately connected with the brunettes, she was tall and muscular, her face held the dreamiest blue eyes, and her smile was perfect, she continued watching the girl as she hugged Stina, the way her hair flowed, her body flowed, it was safe to say Leah was mesmerised.

"Stop staring, you creep" McCabe whispered in Leah's ear, causing her to break from her trance, giving the Irish women a playful smack on the shoulder. "I'm going to the gym," she said as she stood up and headed out, everyone around her making eyes at each other.

_____

You walked into the locker room behind Jonas and as he introduced you to the team, a certain blonde's eyes connected with yours, you couldn't help but notice the small smile her lips created when she saw you, but you quickly diverted your gaze to your best friend. Walking up to her and hugging her.

"I'm glad they let you sign out of the transfer window," Stina said, sounding relieved as she released the hug, "yeah I was worried they wouldn't but once I explained to the FA what was happening they were horrified and told me they would reach out to whatever club I wanted to, within reason, and see if they would sign me. Apparently there are going to be investigations."

"Good, they shouldn't be doing that. But where are you staying? You can crash at mine until you find a place if you need."

"Thank you, but I'm all good, Moster and Tante said I could stay with them, as they are in Paris for the next however long, however it was more a non-negotiable, I think they also meant I was going to be staying when they came back, again non-negotiable, but I'll see."

You and Stina continued talking until it was time for the girls to go to their meeting. You had an appointment with one of the physios just so they could check your range of motion and get some base lines in case you were to injure yourself before your first fitness testing session. As you walked into the gym, you saw a certain blonde in the corner, working away at some exercises which must've been set for her. As you worked with the physio completing the activities and exercises he wanted you to do you couldn't help but notice the way the blonde kept glancing over to you, almost as if she wanted to talk to you.

_____

You sat down at a table with Stina and Frida, Caitlin joined you and wanted to catch up with you and also trying to help you integrate with the team more easily, Caitlin's presence meant that Katie and then consequently Beth sat with you too. You knew the Aussies already due to having spent most of your childhood and your very early twenties in Australia, due to your Tante's work.

"Steph," you called out as you saw the very flustered Aussie walk into the dinning hall, she turned her head around to you, just about every emotion passing through her face.

"Y/N?" she questioned as she walked towards you, "what are you doing here?"

"Well if you weren't late you would've been here when Jonas said I was transferring here," you weren't normally one to say anything about your teammates being late, especially new teammates, however you are Steph had been teammates a long time ago, making your senior team debut for Melbourne Victory exactly a year after she made hers, and she also had a mark on her neck, so you were waiting to see how bad her excuse was.

"Sorry yeah I slept in, Calvin was up barking most of the night. It's so nice to see you again though," she explained as she pulled you in for a hug.

"That mark of your neck would indicate otherwise," you whispered in her ear, she just groaned knowing everyone would've already seen it.

You spend the rest of the lunch talking to mainly Steph or Stina and Frida but occasionally others would make some small talk with you.

After lunch you said your goodbyes to the team, and started to make your way out, when you heard someone call out your name, you turned around to see Leah moving towards you. "Would you like to join me and some of the team for dinner tonight? We are just going to a local pub," she questioned.

"Umm," you filled the air as you hesitated not sure what the goal of her invitation was, "if you don't want to, that's totally okay, I mean you're probably busy anyway," she quickly spat out trying to backtrack.

"Oh no, I would love to, it's just that I don't currently have a car," you told her as you fiddled with the ring on your finger.

"Oh, I can drive you if you want, you can just message me your address later," you nodded and mumbled a quiet thanks before you both went your separate ways.

____

You were just about to put your shoes one when you received a message.

From Leah: I'm just out the front in the car, no rush though. I know I'm early.

To Leah: Hey, all good, I'm actually just putting my shoes on now, I'll be out in a second.

You're pretty sure Leah's eyes widened as you walked out of the house and to her car. You opened the door of her car and saw her eyes run over your body before she said "You look nice," "Oh, thank you, it's nothing," you blushed slightly climbing into the passenger seat, but in truth it was nothing. You had a pair of light blue skinny jeans on, with a cropped country road rugby jumper on. You also have a black puffer vest in case you needed it but you placed that on the floor as you got in.

"You look nice too," you said as an afterthought, almost regretting it instantly, it probably wouldn't been better to say nothing at all than say that.

"Thanks," she smiled at you softly before she began to drive.

---

It was safe to say by the end of the night you hadn't once regretted your decision to come, all the girls there were super nice and it was a really great way to get to know them all, outside of soccer.

"Um, we're about to head home and we just thought to offer to take you home, since, um," Beth gestured over to where Leah was a the bar, you couldn't help but feel a small wave of warmth travel through your body at the fact that the team already seemed to care about you.

"Oh um, yes please that would be great," you followed Beth and Viv to their car, making small talk with them on the way home, when the car pulled up outside your home you didn't miss the look the couple sent each other, you quickly hopped out and thanked the two women profusely, before walking up the stairs of your home and collapsing onto your couch, noticing a message from Stina.

From Stina: Hey, I hope the night out with the girls went well. What would you say to a movie night at yours tomorrow night? In the theatre?

To Stina: Hey yeah it went well, Beth and Viv took me home, will explain why tomorrow night at movie night in the lounge room, you can invite Frida if you want too.

From Stina: Okay. I'll be over around 5. From Stina: Wait, why the lounge room?

To Stina: See you then, I'll make pasta.

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

Face Sitting (Chris)

Request: reader rides chris’ face for the first time and he ends up shooting his load all over himself because it was so hot to him and her dirty talking was getting to him and everything was just so hot then the reader grinds against his stomach/chest using his cum to slide back and forth and end up cumming on him again while he jerks off because it’s hot to him

Warnings: short, plus sized reader, oral (m/f receiving), stomach riding, jerking off, slight degradation if you squint, cumming untouched, dom!chris

Y/n’s Pov

It had been a long and stressful day for both me and Chris for separate reasons. We were both extremely relieved to finally be able to just chill at my apartment for the rest of the evening without any more stress. Currently, we were lying in bed, Chris had his head on my stomach as I played with his hair. “Hey babe?” Chris asked, “Yes?” “Can we try something new? I’m hornyyyyy!” he whined. He rolled his head to look up at me with a pouty face, “What do you wanna try?” I asked intrigued, “I want you to sit on my goddamn face.” he groaned out.

I was pretty surprised he said that considering I’m not exactly some skinny bitch, but I was also skeptical because of that. “I don’t know, I don’t want to like crush you.” I told him, Chris laughed before saying “You’re not gonna crush me ya goof!” I gave him an unamused look, causing him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious, I really want you to sit on my face. Please, it sounds so hot!” he begged again, “Okay, I guess we can try it.” I told him. Within seconds, Chris was on top of me, harshly pressing his lips against mine, causing me to let out a surprised moan. He pulled away to slide off my shirt, now leaving me in only my panties as I wasn’t wearing any pants.

Almost instantaneously, Chris pulled off his sweatpants and boxers in one go before taking off my panties as well. He flipped us over so I was now on top, helping me rock my hips against his for a minute, spreading my wetness across his already hard cock. Chris laid back before sliding me up to his stomach “Ride my fucking face like a slut!” he growled, moving us both so I was now hovering over his face.

Chris pulled me down onto his face, groaning at the taste as he ran his tongue through my folds. I was trying my best not to put my full weight on him as he started harshly suck on my clit, but Chris didn’t like that. He immediately pulled me all the way down on his face before harshly grabbing my chin, forcing me to look at him.

After sending me a wink, he went back to sucking on my clit but quickly switched to giving it little licks before flicking it with his tongue. I had one hand on the headboard while the other slipped down to grab his hand, “Oh fuck, Chris- mhmm! F-Feels so good!” I whined out.

Chris let out another groan against me when he stuck his tongue into my hole and swirling it around. This made me buck my hips forward slightly causing him to let out an extremely whiny, needy moan. “S-So good! Such a good boy for me!” I moaned, causing Chris to start fucking into me with his tongue.

He brought his hands up towards my waist to make me grind against his face before bringing one hand up to choke me. I let out an extremely loud moan when he squeezed my throat harder and started sucking at my entrance, “Fuck! So c-close, gonna cum all over your pretty face!” I cried out.

Chris slapped my ass, making me realize I was now grinding on his face without his help anymore. He let out deep growl as I started to move my hips a bit faster, moaning loudly when I felt myself cum. “Oh shit- yeah, right there! Fuck, Chris- you’re s-so good!” I whined out, after I came down from my high Chris helped me moved down towards his stomach.

I didn’t really register the fact that his stomach was wet since I was still a bit dazed from my high. I looked down at him to see him breathing heavily and smiling with a fucked out expression, “Holy fuck, that was so hot! You literally just made me cum all over myself without even touching me!” he panted out.

His face was still wet with my cum but his expression was something else, he looked so hot right now. I let out another whine when his hands on my hips made me slide down his stomach a bit more as it stimulated my sensitive clit a little. Chris experimentally rocked me back and forth on his stomach a bit, groaning at the why I could easily move thanks to his cum.

“Ride my stomach, c’mon make yourself cum again like a slut.” he demanded, making me grind onto him hard. I’ll admit this was a new feeling but it felt amazing, “Spit in my hand for me babe.” Chris told me, making me a bit confused but nonetheless I complied. My confusion was quickly replaced with shock when I hear the sound of his slick hand rubbing his cock. “Are you really jerking off right now?” I question with a giggle.

Chris’ hand came up to grip my throat again, “Shut the fuck up and grind your needy little pussy against me!” he growled as we both sped up our movements. I quickly felt my high approach and before I knew it, I was cumming all over his stomach. I immediately got off of him and went down to suck his cock, harshly sucking on the head while massaging his balls.

His hands came to push my head all the way down on his cock before letting out a deep groan and cumming down my throat. I pulled off with a pop before looking up at him and licking the mixture of our cum off of his stomach. I licked all the way up to his mouth before making out with him. Chris groaned as he tasted the cum on my tongue before he flipped up over.

We lazily and sloppily made out until he pulled away “Open.” he demanded while grabbing onto my chin. I complied and immediately let out a whine when he spit into my mouth, “Swallow slut.” he growled, I did as he said and stuck my tongue out to show him I listened. “Good girl, always listen to me so well. Now let’s go get cleaned up my love.” he said helping me up, we took a quick shower and changed into new pajamas.

Once we were done, we went back to the bedroom, Chris changed the sheets before we laid down. I cuddled into his side, “The was definitely something fun, I love you handsome.” I told Chris while stroking his hair. “Oh yeah, we’re totally fucking doing that again. That was an amazing experience, thank you for trying it out with me. I love you more angel.” he replied back, placing a kiss on my neck before we slowly drifted off to sleep. We were now both content with the outcome of or say since it felt like the stress had basically felted away.

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[cevansbrat0007]

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 

Well, that couldn’t be right. 

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 

“As much as I can be.” 

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 

But not now. 

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END 

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[aemonds-fire]

Crush

Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female (Oneshot)

Summary: Months ago Aemond hesitated to tell you how he felt. After your boyfriend breaks up with you, he won't make that mistake again.

Word Count: 3807

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, Little plot, lots of smut, profanity, Size kink, Praise kink, Aemond being hot, seductive, funny, and adorable.

Personal Favorite 💖

Masterlist

‘Why the hell did I let them talk me into coming to this club?'

You know your friends are only trying to help you get through a rough breakup. “It’s time to stop moping and sitting around in your pj’s,” they tell you. “You need to get dressed up, go out, and have some fun,” they insist. So you give in, pampering yourself with a full beauty routine, choosing a racy bra and panty set, and putting together a little black outfit.

Checking yourself in the mirror before you leave, feeling better than you have in the past two weeks, with some of your old confidence coming back knowing that you look good. When your little trio walks into the packed club, you’re glad your friends talked you into coming out tonight, instantly feeling the intoxicating energy from the flashing lights, pulsing music, and dancing crowd.

Snagging a spot at the bar, you buy the first round of drinks, genuinely smiling for the first time since your boyfriend broke up with you. You’re enjoying your second drink and playfully teasing one of your friends when you spot him on the dance floor. Your now-ex-boyfriend who has his hands on his new girlfriend’s ass.

Wanting to act like it doesn’t hurt, you let your friends drag you out to dance. You try to enjoy yourself; you really do, but now the music is too loud, the club is too hot, and you just want to get off the dance floor. Giving your friends a weak smile, you let them know you need a break from dancing and head back to the bar.

Squeezing into a gap at the crowded bar, you try to catch the bartender's attention. While you wait, your mind goes back to your ex-boyfriend. Even though the spark between you was fading, the breakup came out of nowhere. How quickly he had another girlfriend led you to think he may have been cheating on you. So strong was your suspicion, you went to get tested just to be safe. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ you tell yourself. ‘It’s over, and you’re better off without him,’ you try to convince yourself, but it still hurts to be replaced so easily.

You’re drawn from your thoughts when a drink is placed in front of you. When you look up, the bartender says, “It’s from the guy at the end of the bar.”

Turning to look in the direction she’s pointing, you see the buyer of your drink, his long silvery white hair an easy giveaway to his identity. With a tilt of his head, he motions for you to join him.

You’re relieved to see a friendly face, so you don’t hesitate to pick up your drink and make your way over to him. With a genuine smile, “Hi Aemond, I didn’t see you over here.”

Aemond Targaryen returns your smile and immediately offers you his seat at the crowded bar. “Fortunately, I did see you.”

“Thank you, and thanks for the drink too,” you tell him as you slide onto the stylishly modern barstool, draping your leather jacket over the back.

You’ve known the Targaryen siblings for about a year, with Helaena being the one you met first. Since you were new in town, she took you under her wing, showing you the best places to hang out and eat and introducing you to people, including her brothers. Aegon is laid-back with a great sense of humor. He’s also quite a flirt, but a playful smack from his sister made it clear that you were her friend and not to be messed with.

Aemond, who’s a few months younger than you, is very different. Nowhere near as open as Hel and far more serious than Aegon, he's always intrigued you. He’s soft-spoken and reticent, holding back much of who he is, and that makes him difficult to read. You think that guardedness stems from a childhood accident that cost him an eye and left his face scarred.

For a while, you wondered if he liked you at all or if he was just trying to be nice because of Hel. But at parties, your boyfriend usually ended up playing games with Aegon and the guys, and you somehow ended up hanging with Aemond, just talking. Having those chances to talk one-on-one, you discover quick intelligence, a wry sense of humor, and a few shared interests. You decide that he’s just naturally reserved—someone who needs time to relax around people.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I saw you,” he says, leaning down a bit to be heard better. “You look amazing."

Smiling at the compliment, “You clean up pretty good yourself."

While you’ve struggled to get a handle on his personality, there is no question in your mind regarding his looks. Dressed in black, his button-down shirt and trousers look tailored to his tall and trim build, he exudes sleek athleticism. His casually rolled-up sleeves show off his slender forearms, a stylish, expensive watch on his wrist, and beautiful, large hands with long, slim fingers. His angular face has chiseled features that give him a uniquely handsome appearance. Not even the faded scar or black leather eye patch can detract from his striking good looks. Tonight, his pale, silvery hair is simply pulled back into a loose braid that ends between his shoulder blades.

Taking a sip of your drink, you give him a curious look. “I’m surprised to see you here. Let me guess, Aegon dragged you out and then disappeared in search of something in a short skirt and heels."

“Are we that predictable?” He asks with a crooked grin. “Aegon wanted to meet up with some pretty little thing he’s had his eye on, and I apparently need to get out more.” Reaching for his own drink, ”What’s your story?”

“Some friends decided I needed a night out,” you admit sheepishly. As you answer, you see your ex-boyfriend back on the dance floor.

Aemond, noticing your stare, turns to see who you are looking at. He then moves around to stand between you and the dance floor, blocking them from your view. “Forget about him; he’s not worth it.”

You look down at your hands folded in your lap, trying to push down the hurt you feel when he urges your chin up with his fingers. He looks at you intensely and says, “Don’t cry over that asshole. You deserve far better than the likes of him, babe.”

Meeting his gaze, you nod your head and pull yourself together. ”You’re right. It may take some time, but I’ll be fine.” You down the rest of your drink with a determined smile.

Before you can stop him, Aemond somehow manages to catch the busy bartender’s attention and motions for another round of drinks. When you protest, he leans closer, putting his arm around you and resting his hand on your shoulder. “I’m taking care of you tonight, pretty girl.”

“You'll be better than fine, and it won’t take as long as you think,” he continues with a cocky little smile. “You just need someone who knows how to treat you."

A little jolt goes through your body; whether it’s from the heat of his hand resting on your exposed shoulder or the difference in his demeanor, you’re not sure. This is a more confident and assertive Aemond that you haven’t seen before, and the little nicknames are completely new.

But unsure of your instincts, you jokingly say, “Yeah, some day my prince will come.”

“Hmm. Maybe he already has, princess,” he replies before leaning very close to you, his lips almost brushing against your ear. “I’ve always had a crush on you, always wanted you.”

His words cause a flutter in your chest. When he takes hold of your hand and starts rubbing his thumb on your skin, your breath catches in your throat. “You never said anything." is all you can manage to get out as you turn your head to look at him in surprise.

“That was a mistake I‘m not making again."

Your faces are only inches apart; you’re studying him with wide eyes while your mind races to process this new revelation. The sounds of the club disappear; all you can hear is the pounding of your heart. Closing the slight distance between you, his lips barely brush against yours before pausing, waiting for a signal from you to continue. When your lips instinctively part, he takes that as the go-ahead to kiss you slowly.

His mouth is soft and hot, and his tongue running along your bottom lip feels so good. He pulls back much too soon for your liking, now that passion has sparked inside you. When you impulsively reach to wipe a trace of your lipstick from his mouth, he quickly captures your thumb, drawing it into his mouth, licking and sucking on the tip before releasing it with a kiss.

As warmth rushes through your body, you can feel your skin tingling. The thinking part of your brain tells you this is a bad idea; it’s too soon after your breakup and too impulsive. But the seductive look on his face, the breaking of physical barriers, and his admission of wanting you has started a throbbing between your legs.

Since you’re still stunned silent, he takes the initiative. “Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

Biting your bottom lip, trying to sort your thoughts, you ask, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Aemond’s mouth tightens at the question, “I wasn’t sure if the attraction was mutual or if you just saw me as Hel’s kid brother. So I hesitated.” He looks away from you before adding, “Then you met him."

Knowing that opening himself up to others is not easy for him, you gently squeeze his hand in encouragement because you’re raw from your breakup and you need to know just what you could be getting yourself into with Aemond.

Shrugging his shoulders. "You seemed happy, and I thought I blew my chance with you.”

Little things about your friendship start to click in your mind, bringing a smile to your face. Now you’re the one holding his hand, rubbing circles with your thumb on his skin.

With a hopeful smile, he asks, “Can we get out of here?”

His request makes your heart thump in your chest, and you shift your hips in your seat before asking, “Where to?”

“My place?” Quickly adding, “We could talk some more or..." leaning close to your ear, his voice dropping lower with desire. “I could show you how much I want you, princess.”

Deep down, you’ve always loved the sound of his voice, and this new seductive tone causes a shiver to go up your spine despite the heat that is spreading through your body. Almost before you realize you're doing it, you’re slipping off the barstool, hoping your legs won’t shake.

Steadying yourself with a light hand on his chest and smiling up at him, you take a breath and say, “Alright, we can go... talk.”

Your reply earns you a rare, dimpled grin from him. He helps you slip on your jacket before firmly grasping your hand to begin leading you through the crowd to the exit. On your way out, you pass a grinning Aegon, but Aemond only glances at his brother, not bothering to stop.

Once outside, in the chill night air, he puts his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot. “You’re just going to ditch Aegon?” You ask with a chuckle.

“He knows what I’m up to,” he replies with a smirk. Laughing at your expression. “Aegon would get your boyfriend to play those stupid games at his parties so I could have some time with you.”

Reaching his car, he pulls you into a slow, deep kiss, holding you close to him with his large hands on your hips. Soon you’re fisting at the soft, expensive fabric of his shirt because it feels so fucking good kissing him, feeling him press his hard body against yours. You let his tongue tease its way past your lips to dance with yours as his fingers dig into your skin before he reluctantly pulls back to open the car door for you.

During the drive to his place, you text your friends, reassuring them that you are with Aemond and that everything is fine.

Curious about something, “So when Helaena would suggest a girls movie night, but we would end up at your place, you put her up to that?”

“I did not; she volunteered to do that.”

“My friend sets me up so her brother can walk around like a slut in sweatpants and a messy man bun. Wow, you Targs are something else,” you laughingly tease.

“I was desperate, pretty girl." His blush was visible even in the dim light of the car. “But you noticed,” he chuckles.

Aemond’s apartment is in one of the pricier buildings in the city, but you know his family has money. You’ve been here before, hanging out with the siblings for movie nights. Before you can even toe off your heels by the door, he pulls you to him with one arm around your waist, burying his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, then soothing the little bites with his tongue, making you moan softly.

“Wanted you so bad for so long,” he murmurs between little wet kisses over your throat.

Playfully, you tease him while tugging on his long braid. “Have you been thinking dirty thoughts about me all this time?”

“Fucking filthy thoughts,” as he crushes his lips against yours in a demanding kiss that takes your breath away. You both work to shrug your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. You can feel the wetness forming between your legs as his long fingers caress the bare skin of your waist.

Pulling his shirt up, your hands explore the lean muscles of his flawless skin. When you bite at his lip, he groans into your mouth and grinds his hardening cock against you.

Trailing his lips down your neck, “Tell me you want me. I need to hear it," he pleads.

“I want you, Aemond; I want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly.

With your words, the last shred of restraint either of you had disappeared. By the time the two of you reach his bedroom, both of you are half naked, leaving a trail of clothing and shoes along your path.

“Fucking gorgeous tits,” he mumbles against your hardend nipple before taking it into his hot mouth again, sucking eagerly. Your other breast is being cupped in his strong hand, his fingers teasing the delicate peak. “Perfect tits all for me,” he hums as he switches to begin lavishing the other with attention.

His loose braid is long undone, and your fingers are tangled in his silky, soft hair. You can’t resist the urge to bait him a little. “You think just ‘cause you lick it, it's yours?”

His eye immediately shoots up to your face, and you feel a rough hum against your skin. Backing you up until your legs bump into his bed, he playfully pushes you down on the mattress.

“Aemond?” You squeak as you see the evil gleam in his eye. Kneeling on the floor, he pulls your legs to the edge of the bed and presses his face between them, rubbing his nose over your covered clit and inhaling deeply.

Resting on your elbows, you watch him tug down your panties, leaving you naked. He pushes your thighs wide with his large hands, and you see him shamelessly stare at your soaking wet pussy. “Who made you this wet, princess?"

You let out a gasp as he flattens his tongue and licks the length of your slit, never taking his eye off you. “Mine now,” he says with that familiar smirk of his.

Giving him your best, not impressed look, “It’s gonna take more than that, Targaryen.” you reply sassily. You watch him stick out his long tongue and start flicking your clit, before placing his lips over your little bundle of nerves, alternating between sucking gently and swirling his tongue over it.

Before long, you fall back on the bed, closing your eyes and giving yourself over to the wonderful sensations his mouth creates. His lips and tongue move through your folds, teasing your entrance, before returning to your swollen bud. Every little whimper or sob he pulls from you seems to spur him on. Compared to your ex, Aemond is the pussy eating champ.

Finding a rhythm that has you moaning “Fuck, you’re good at this.” He swells with pride, determined to make you a quivering mess. He relentlessly applies just the right amount of pressure on the right spots again and again. Your world is nothing but sloppy, wet sounds coming from between your legs and the orgasm building deep inside you.

When you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, your nails rake his scalp, causing him to moan into your pussy. "Mmm, baby, I’m close..don’t stop,” as you start to grind your hips against his mouth. Before you know it, waves of ecstasy that have your toes curling are crashing through you,leaving you shaking and breathless.

Aemond stares at your quivering pussy, watching more wetness leak from you. “You never answered my question. “Who makes you this wet? Hmm?” 

Still blissed out from your orgasm, you gasp as he slides a long finger inside you. “You do, only you,” you whimper.

“That’s my pretty princess,” he coos as he adds a second finger, slowly dragging them in and out of you. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy?”

‘Mmm yes,” While he rises from the floor, you move to the center of the bed, stretching contentedly and giving your legs a rest. You enjoy the sight of his erection straining against his boxers while he opens a drawer in his nightstand and pulls out a condom packet.

“Aemond, we can skip that if you want. I already got tested after the breakup; all good.

“I’m good too, promise," he says as he drops the condom back in the drawer. Lowering his boxers, he frees his hard cock. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue at his perfect size while you watch him lazily stroke himself. Just looking at him makes your pussy clench; he’s the perfect blend of beauty and masculinity.

“Do you realize how fucking gorgeous you are?” You wonder aloud, your voice smokey with your arousal, taking in the glorious details of the sight before you. From his tousled hair falling past his shoulders to his defined, lean muscles and slim hips, you think he is a work of art.

His pale skin, already flush with his own desire, colors even more down to the tip of his beautiful, long shaft. Joining you on the bed, positioning himself so he is looming over the length of your body, he lowers down to kiss you, his hair falling in a silvery curtain around your head. You can taste yourself as he plunges his tongue past your teeth, deliciously invading your mouth.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and your hands on his back, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his weight on top of you. The soft hairs on his chest and legs tickle your sensitive skin, while his cock is hot and hard against you. You part your thighs wider to let him settle between them, curling a leg around his hip.

“You ready for my cock, pretty princess?” His voice is rough with his need to be inside you when he starts moving his length between your sensitive folds, coating himself with your slick wetness.

Nodding desperately, “Mmm, yes,” you murmur, ready to start writhing beneath him.

Finding your entrance, the head of his cock slowly pushes into you, making him hiss, and he doesn't stop until he can’t go any deeper. “Fuck, you're tight around me.” Slowly, he withdraws halfway before sliding back in and holding himself steady. Giving you a cocky grin, “I think you’re used to something smaller being in you.”

You know it’s true. You’ve never felt this full before, so wonderfully stretched. Your eyes go wider, and a moan escapes you when he gives a more forceful, deep thrust into you.

“Hmm, I’m right,” he smirks knowingly. His muscles flexing with each snap of his hips.

Sensing that he eats up praise the way he eats pussy, you’re happy to give him what he wants. “Fuck, you’re big; it feels so good.” Each time his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, a little jolt of exquisite pleasure goes through you, and you grip his hips harder, raking your nails along his skin.

“So beautiful.” He’s captivated by the sight of your tits bouncing as he pounds into you. “Taking all of me so well, princess.” He coos as he hooks an arm under your knee, the new angle causing more friction against your patch of nerves as he somehow picks up his pace.

“Close, so close,” you whimper. It’s not long before the tightened coil suddenly snaps, making you cum hard with an earth-shattering orgasm that leaves your body shaking.

Your pussy clenching around him starts to send him over his own edge. His balls tightening as he keeps fucking you through your climax. His release leaves him grunting and shuddering as his cock twitches and spurts hot cum deep inside you.

Both of you are left reeling as Aemond rolls off and flops on his side next to you. He gently gathers you into his arms, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair.

You can hear his soft hum of satisfaction, and you can feel his heartbeat against your hand on his chest as you lie in his arms, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“You good, princess?” He asks and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead with your contented sigh of "yes." Soon you both force yourselves from the too-comfortable bed to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, Aemond gives you a soft, well-worn t-shirt to put on while he is already wearing gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, no shirt, and his hair is up in a messy bun, earring a muttered, ”Slut,” from you.

“How come I call you princess, and apparently my nickname is 'Slut'? he teasingly asks.

“Awww, would you rather I call you ‘Prince Aemond'? You come back with mock sarcasm.

Grinning, “Prince Aemond, I like that.” Laughing when you roll your eyes at him, he heads to the kitchen for water and snacks for both of you.

[latteandjacks]

"They should've made an emphasis on Sallie May being trans before" "There should be things that openly indicate she's trans aside from the horns" "The merch shouldn't show her with a bulge if she's trans, logically she should hide it"

My brother in Christ shut the fuck up

Aight, I get where most of you are coming from but let me just say that Sallie May is a big breath of fresh air from a lot of canon trans rep I've been seeing in the internet about big projects such as Helluva Boss, let's go point from point

This contains spoilers from Hell's Belles

Sallie May is a transgender Imp, this is not something that was decided just now for the short as her first appearance in the moon harvest festival already shows her with the thick line horns (Which are exclusively from AMAB (Assigned Male at Birth) Imps

If there's only one point these people made that I agree with is the fact that the horns thing should be something implied in the show, not specifically with the intention of outing a trans character but something simple that could give more context for those who do not check the wikis or the social medias that often

Other than that, I feel like they haven't actually meet a trans person irl because they believe that her being trans should be something that everyone should catch the first time they see her, that someone should inmeditaly point out she's trans, yet, they get upset at the fact that she's proudly showing a bulge on the merchandise They want the show to scream verbally about her being trans but not casually

You have no idea how relieved I felt when, at no point in the episode, her being trans was mentioned or outed, none pointed out her horns or voice and instead the problem was her feeling left out of her sister's life, and, again, not because she's trans and feels like Millie doesn't view her the same or some bullshit, but because Millie doesn't go home as often and felt a bit mad when she had to do her work In fact! Her not getting genitalia reconstructive surgery is also a thing that is cool about her, she got tits but didn't chop off the dick and is not insecure about it, most of times trans people are put between not getting surgery or getting ALL of the surgeries AND being extremely insecure about their genitalia, and yes, there's a lot of trans people that feel that way, but I think that aspect of her is really good representation for those that don't want to get surgery or only want to either reduce or enlarge their chest, not everyone gets dysphoria the same way and this doesn't make her less of a woman for that

Even if it's okay to have characters where one of the main issue of the comes from being trans (I have a few myself), It's also nice to see character that are trans but the main issue with their life comes from something completely different and not related

So for people upset about her passing so well you can't immediately tell she's trans Surprise! That's a lot of us want, that's what a lot trans people irl try, to just be a person of the gender we really are, to be normal and not needing to always out of ourselves, to be treated the same no matter what I make a lot of jokes about my lack of dick and my excess of tits, I only out myself as trans when formally presenting to someone and that is just because I'm not allowed to be trans so I don't pass as a boy at all and need to specify, but me being trans is something that most of my friend only bring into the conversation to make a friendly joke or when I bring it up

Sallie May is not only good representation, is one of the best I've seen in a while in the modern adult media, because she's subtle yet obvious You may not like Viv (Me too girl /non gendered), but I got to give it to her, the lgbt+ representation she does is on point

Anyways now that I tackled down that issue is time to actually talks about this short as a whole see ya

[elisysd]

12. Don't give me up, cause what about, what about angels

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: What About Angels - Birdy

Charles saw you tensing after your mother’s cold greeting. He hated how you flinched as she was reminding you that being late was disrespectful towards your dad’s special day, that being away from home and in a big city had made you lose sight of the values they had taught you. But he hated even more how you simply smiled and apologized. He needed all his self control to not take your side, he knew how anxious this whole situation was making you feel, he didn’t want to make it worse by saying something he knew wouldn’t be well received.

The first thing he noticed in the house’s hall was the amount of family pictures, but instead of four people on them were only three. He recognised your mom, assumed the man beside her was your dad and when he thought he would notice you, it was instead your little brother. He couldn't be wrong, he looked exactly like you. The pictures were cut in a certain way that didn’t take him a long time to understand that you had been cut out of them. He felt a wave of rage hitting him. Why make you come here if your parents had gone to such an extent as to erase every trace of your existence? It was a twisted joke.

“You don’t even call anymore, Y/N. I knew it would happen, I’ve always said that being in a world full of sparks and empty promises would change you. You’re too gullible. You don’t even have time for your own family anymore. Not that you ever had.”

“You’ve never tried to ask questions about my job…” you mumbled as Charles put a comforting hand on your hip.

“I don’t need to. I know exactly what you do, you’re the talk of the town. The small town girl made it to the TV. There is no reason to be proud, playing a pretty face on tv… that is not what I raised you to be. And now you’re associating yourself with fair-weather friends…” she said, darting judgmental eyes on Charles. “I know exactly who you are.”

He didn’t have the time to reply as your dad entered the room and sat on the chair without a word. You sat too, Charles close to you as your mom joined your dad’s side. 

“How nice it is to finally see you alive.” he said, making you gulp.

“I’m Charles, your daughter’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” he introduced himself in a desperate attempt to drive the conversation away from you and the relieved sigh you let out made him think that you appreciated it. 

Lunch was awkward, punctuated with snarky comments here and there that you tried your best to ignore. Charles was trying to do the same but it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his calm. But it was when cake was brought that resentment and unspoken words finally came out in the open. You had taken your phone out of your pocket, wanting to show your parents all the beautiful landscapes you had the chance to witness. 

“Aren’t you ashamed?” your mom muttered.

“Why?” you turned your head to look at her in disbelief.

“Ashamed of following the sport that killed your brother. Ashamed of being with the man responsible for his death.” she sternly said.

You felt like a million daggers stabbing your heart all at once. You took a deep breath, putting your hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly to indicate to him  not to react. It was something you had to do alone.

“F1 and Charles didn’t kill Luc, it was his leukemia, not anything else.” you replied, feeling a lump in your throat.

“If you had not introduced your brother to that stupid sport, he wouldn’t have been a fan and his illness wouldn't have turned that bad so quickly. He wasn’t talking about anything else than that sport and you. Until his very last breath. His last words were about Formula 1. It took my baby away from me and this is your fault. Both of you.” she finished, turning to Charles this time.

“If I can add something… I know I have no right to comment on this situation but even if I understand your pain, Y/N is not the one to blame. She…” Charles started, quickly shutted up by your dad.

“You’re right, you have no right to say a  thing. You don’t know what it is like to lose a son.”

“Maybe I don’t, yeah. But I know exactly what it feels like to lose a parent. I understand your pain. Truly. But with all due respect, you’ve already lost a son, you should be more careful to not lose a daughter by pushing her away and making her feel like a stranger in her own family.”

“We’ve already lost her the minute she decided to not show up at the funeral.” your mom spitted, making you close your eyes, trying to not cry. You wouldn’t give that pleasure to your parents.

“I think it’s best if we leave. It was a bad idea to come here, anyway.” you ended up saying, standing up, Charles following you. “You shouldn’t have invited me in the first place, if it was to treat me that way.”

You took Charles’ hand in yours and dragged him out of what had been once your safe place. Without a word you made your way to his car and rushed inside and it was only when the door was closed and that he had taken place behind the wheel that you broke down. He didn’t hesitate to pull you on his lap and let you cry on his shoulder, holding you tight.

“It’s okay, babe… you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to feel bad, you have nothing to feel bad about. If you were believing your mom’s lies, I understand why you were so mean to me at the beginning now.”

“She is not entirely wrong, you know.” you sniffed in his neck. “At least about one thing, I should’ve been there for Luc’s funeral. But it was too hard for me. I didn’t want to face the fact that I would never see him again. I didn’t want to make the nightmare I was in real. because if I was going, it would happen exactly that. It would have made the pain real and permanent. I couldn’t.”

You put your forehead against his, trying to find a way to ground you. Charles drew small patterns on your hips, comforting you the best he could. 

“Let’s get some fresh air, okay?” he whispered against your ear.

You got out of the car and hand in hand you started to wander the streets of your childhood, telling him anecdotes and facts of any buildings and streets you were walking on and seeing.

“Tell me about Luc.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Everything. Whatever you want. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”

“He was passionate. About many things. History and art mostly. He wanted to work in a museum. And passionate about F1 of course. He knew a lot of mechanical stuff, more than I did. He taught me as much as I did, I swear. Maybe more. I was spending my weekends at the hospital with him to watch the races. When he was hospitalized, it was what kept him going. It was our thing, you know. Wait, I think I have a picture to show you.”

She took a photo out of her wallet and gave it to him. If he didn’t know it was a hospital room, he would have had a hard time guessing it. Everywhere were Ferrari and monegasque flags as well as a lot of merch. He was recognising one of his caps on the bedside table. Posters of his podiums were hung on the walls, his Monza’s win right above Luc’s head. Small replicas of his trophies were there too as well as miniatures of his helmets.

“A real fan.” he smiled.

“The best.” you sighed. “ You don’t know how happy he was when you won in Monza. It brought so much joy in his life. Even if it wasn’t for long. It was a tough time, he had just started to get hospitalized, he was very sick and pale and the shell of what he once was. And suddenly, he was feeling a little more alive. Because of you. Then, time went by and I had to leave for New York. It was the toughest decision I had to make in my life. At some point I was ready to take a year off so I could be with him…” 

“What made you change your mind?”

“Him. With time my dream became his. He wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was giving it all up because he was sick. He was talking about how amazing it would be if I was interviewing you. I bet he is the happiest up there.” you smiled, looking up. “One of his dreams was to meet you.”

“Maybe it is not too late?” Charles hesitantly said and you looked at him curiously. “Is he buried here?”

You nodded and he felt you stiffened.

“I've never been on his grave.” you confessed after a moment of silence. “It’s too hard and too painful to go there alone.”

“Good thing you’re not alone anymore, then.”

As you were making your way to the graveyard, Charles had to hold you closer to his chest with each step you were taking. You sobs were getting louder and your legs were shakier. It was breaking his heart, trying to see how much you were trying to keep it together.

When you finally reached the grave, at the back end of the graveyard, you fell on your knees in front of the black grave. Luc hated black. A black and white picture of him was also in the middle of the gravestone. It made you shiver. It was well kept, your parents were coming often. The lump in your throat had not gone away in the slightest, it was even bigger now, making you choke up on your own saliva. Charles wanted to hold you, wanted to get you out of here. The emotional devastation you were in was making him want to join you on the ground and cry with you. But he also knew you needed it. It was the closure you needed to move forward. He took a few steps away, giving you privacy.

“I’m so sorry, Luc. So sorry. Sorry about how I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, sorry to have let you down, sorry to not have stepped up and measured up when I should have, sorry to not have been the sister you deserved. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t regret not being by your side. There are so many things that I should have done differently, so many things that I feel guilty about but none of them compare to how guilty I feel to not have said goodbye. I acted like a coward and I know how much you felt scared about dying. And how I promised you I would hold your hand until the end. I didn’t. I chickened out and I failed you. If I could go back in time, I would, just so I could look into your eyes one last time and hold your hand tight. I wouldn’t hesitate. I would trade anything for one last smile of yours. I hope you can forgive me, I sure can’t do that alone. But despite everything I’m happy and I’m not sure I should be. I fell in love and you would be ecstatic to know who I share my life with. He is supportive and kind and perfect for me. I wish we would have had enough time so you could have met him. But maybe after all, it’s you I should thank. Maybe it’s you who sent Charles on my way. Maybe it is your way of telling me that you are not mad at me. That you want me to be happy. If only you could give me a sign. I just want you to know that everything I do, I do it for you. Because I love you. Forever.”

You felt Charles’ arms around your shoulders as he crouched down beside you.

“Hey, Luc. I know we don’t know each other but your sister talks about you so much that I feel like I already know you. I would have loved to meet you, I know how big of a fan you are of F1. I would have loved to show you around the paddock, maybe I would have let you sit in my car. Anything to make you and your sister smile. You are brave and strong and I have nothing but pure admiration for you. I wish I could have met you. Don’t worry about your sister, I take good care of her and I don’t want to let go of her. I’m here for her for as long as she lets me but I hope it is a forever kind of thing.” he whispered as you looked at him with big and glossy eyes.

He helped you stand up, asked if you were alright and if you wanted to leave. He didn’t mind staying but he wanted to make sure you were alright, the day had been emotionally draining enough. When you nodded, he took you in his arms, engulfing you in his jacket so you weren’t cold and kissed the top of your head as you headed out.

“I’m so proud of you. So proud.” he said as you finally reached his car.

“Thank you. For being there. I don’t think I would have been able to do it alone.”

“You’re the strongest person I know. You would have done it at some point.”

“Did you mean it? What you said up there… About us being forever.” you shyly asked.

“I’m sorry it was not the best time to say it. But to answer you, I do. I’m not kidding, Y/N, I swear I can’t explain it. I don’t know how either but I just know. You’re the love of my life.”

Author's note: In laws meeting incoming... how do you think it will turn out? .

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[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

The Vees are Overlords but also a business, therefore they hold meeting and work with clients right and workers? Well what if a Business client or worker unknowingly said something about Retro!Reader in a meeting?

If its before Vox it come be commenting on Retro's cooking, as I see Retro would always ensure Vox had home made snacks for while hes working. Something like "That House Wife of yours is decent in the Kitchen, I see why you keep them there"

If its before Valentino I assume its after Retro brings him something between shoots, some fool would comment on Retro's looks or ask why Retro isn't one of Val's 'Stars' kinda a "Bod like that should be in those sheets"

Velvette would most likely be dealing with jealous models who don't know fully who Retro is but Retro gets to walk in, get the nice personal design treatment from Velvette and not have to talk the cat walk? Bitch fight would incoming.

Hope you don't mind my ramblings and if this sparks something Hooray!

He would destroy the person in question if it’s an insult^

Vox is always boasting about Retros cooking, how skilled and talented they are. He literally never shuts up about it. Now, the demon who said ‘I can see why you keep them there’ might have meant it as a sort of joke or some shit, but Vox would not be pleased. He does not take kindly to people who insult or degrade their partners (ironic, considering Valentino), so someone who’s making that sort of implication about his wife? Death.

He’d sort of chuckle and go ‘excuse me?’, daring the demon to repeat themselves. It’s over for them either way. If the demon backtracks, Vox will very pointedly dedicate the rest of the meeting to bragging about all of Retros other skills, too. He’d try to start by mentioning it off hand, but he’d get so invested in proving a point to the low life that insulted his wife that he’d get carried away. He’d go on and on about how creative and thoughtful Retro is, how nice they are to everyone, including those who work at the company. He would not-so-politely remind everyone that Retro knits sweaters for people at the company picnics, how they always cook at least half the food at the company get together and parties, stuff like that. It’s a stupid move to insult Vox’s wife, but insulting the person who everyone loves just because of how nice and kind they are? That’s ten times dumber.

Valentino would shoot a bitch on sight if they made a comment about Retro in bed. Yes it’s hell, insults and comments like that are to be expected, but he has standards when it comes to Retro. Val is so unbelievably protective of them when they come by the studio, it’s startling. He knows what Vox would do if anything happened, and Val doesn’t want to see Retro in any sort of compromising situation to begin with. He’d do his best to keep everyone in line.

He’d shoot glares and insults at anyone who looks at them the wrong way, anyone who looks at them for too long. Keep in mind, Val is in a wonderful mood whenever Retro visits him at work. They help him with scripting, and he’s always admiring them and gushing over them. He draws little hearts in the margins of his papers and sometimes lets them on set. He’s always nervous about it, but it works out nicely. They usually only help adjust someone’s clothes (with how few they’re wearing, it’s very important), the perspective of cameras, sometimes the hair or makeup (only a little). They know exactly what Val is looking for, and how to get the scene how he wants it. They’re calm and polite and everyone is just so relieved about it. Retro even does their best to make sure the actors are comfortable, the clothes aren’t too tight, the clasps work correctly, things like that. So yeah, if someone makes a comment about them, they’d be lucky to only receive extra hours of work as a punishment.

Velvette? Okay, if Retro was the type to confront people, Vel would record the entire thing. Unfortunately, Retro usually pretends they don’t hear a thing. They’d rather ignore it and keep up the nice and polite house wife routine. They’re probably busy admiring their lovers, anyway. So, instead, Velvette would shoot a model a glare and walk right up to them, demanding they tell her what makes them think they can say such a thing.

Retro gets treated special because Velvette respects them, thinks they’re awesome and adorable and can’t do anything wrong. Mostly. So, the fact that one of her models (people she sees as frequent fuck ups) would try to put themselves on Retros level? The fact that someone would even think they’re anywhere near as good as them, anywhere near as deserving of Velvettes attention and affection as Retro? A ridiculous notion. The model is lucky not to be torn apart by Val. Velvette would go off on the model, listing every single mistake they’ve made in the past hour alone.

The workers at Vee Tower learn not to fuck around when it comes to Retro pretty quick.

[moongoopy]

little helper

cont: working alongside shiu kong meant meeting toji and toji meeting you.

c/w: violence, reader is shorter than toji, reader has the luck ct (like haruta shigemo)

c: toji x reader

a/n: sorry if ooc and something i realised so far about my fics or drafts or writing or whatever is that i get too into the writing to add the x reader part oopsies guys, i'll try to make the reader and character make out every five seconds in the next fic trust!!!!

Being Shiu Kong's little helper was so relieving for him. First off, he didn't have to deal with the egos of other curse users and second, you were bubbly company. 

You didn't fit the scene of being a handler at all but money was money so he couldn't blame you but he atleast show some concerns when the streaks under your eyes turn out less.

"What was it this time?"

He watches you wrap bandages around your wrists while he let the cigeratte dangle at his lips. He made sure to get a new lighter when he does go to the store, the lighter was being stubborn for this round's smoke.

"Well, after that one curse user with the pigtails was threatened by how I pointed him out, he sent his little curses at me." He breathed a sigh as you lit his cigeratte for him with a spare you have on yourself and he shook his head.

"Aren't you atleast a bit scared by how sharp you're being? You're down to three." Having looked at the small mirror in the mortuary, you stretched a bit at the skin under your eyes. Yep, just a bit more till you die, you guess. You shrugged at Shiu. If a bunch of curse users can't handle a bit of truth, they can simply drop dead at a bounty you'd present to them. Shiu scoffed in amusement, you were a gem.

"Anywho, just watch your mouth for the next. He's not that feisty, hell, he doesn't really let anything get to him but you'll be working with him next. He slipped a profile to you when you were done taking off the clothes of a corpse that was carried into the mortuary by the latest mission and you promptly read it. You took note, scanning the profile again. Putting aside the jewellery of the corpse, you asked if Shiu won't come this time.

"Nah, I need to fix a few things with the funding until then, just give me updates about his responses." He stuck his hand out and you threw your lighter at him and he waved his hand, exiting the mortuary. Toji Fushiguro, he looks stone cold but you'll get to see him. The next day.

For now, the body of a dead man awaits you as you meticulously set him apart.

..

Summer in Tokyo was a bummer especially since the clothes you wore was too snug against your body. So much for professionalism, what you'd do to be half naked right now.. Patting down your sweaty skin with a clean cloth, you exhaled in gratitude at the airconditioning in the ramen shop you walked into. Fushiguro should be around here.

He wasn't hard to spot, he was a large, towering man and you sat down next to him.

You ordered a Ochazuke because of the sweltering heat, you made sure it was enough to forget about the weather and not that you have a client to tend to.

"Did Shiu sent you?" Gosh, his voice was deep that you flinched a bit when you gave the yen to pay and his lips quirked up a bit. You smiled, nodding to the man who looked you up and down rather blatantly. He took a sip of his soda before gesturing at you.

"Was he too caught up in something else to send a pipsquek in for me?" He grinned, putting his can down and is pleased that you didn't back down.

"You're one to talk when the soles of your slippers are loose," You put down the folders of the bounty next to his ramen. "My name is [Name], nice to meet you." You nodded happily, looking back at the waiter that gave you a heads up to how long you had to wait.

He made a noise of amusement, bringing his head down to stuff a fishball in his mouth and placed down his chopsticks.

"Hmm, that's interesting. You're so bold, is it because of your luck, you think you can get away with anything?" You chuckled wryly, shaking your head and played with the pen on your lap. You uttered towards him how nobody can just insult you without any confrontation and he nearly snorts.

He plays this little game of trying to mock you more, finding ways to make you tick but you held up good. He's beggining to like this little helper Shiu sent, one that was so undettered and nonchalant but acting so polite to keep an act on. When your Ocazuke arrives, it was his time to leave.

You pointed to the folders you let him read, asking if he got all that and he dismissed you with a wave.

He didn't even answer your question, rude. But you gave a long sigh. For such an attractive man, he's so adamant on trying to piss you off. Maybe it started to work after being called a little helper instead of an assistant.. but you won't admit that. Right now, you had a nice, cold meal to enjoy and dug in.

After a while, you finished and left to the park. It was oddly very quiet, wouldn't there be more people in this time of day? Well, it was a weekend so maybe people preferred their walls of their home for now. You kept the folders close and took out your phone to dial Shiu.

"Hello-?" The service was quite bad, you weren't sure if it was Shiu or you.

"Shiu?" You leaned against a lamp pole, adjusting the phone between your left and right ear. His voice is a strange mash of words that you couldn't make out.

"….man…gone…" A bunch of question marks litter your brain, who now?

That's when a bullet shot your phone and the graze of the bullet against your skin made you clutch your hand and curse. You swiftly turned back and gasped. It was the man you stripped the other day, well stripped was too perverse of a description rather taking off his clothes to examine would be better. Anything could happen in the Jujutsu world so why was a corpse trudging towards you? You'd made sure nobody knows that this man is dead, his family wouldn't know either or unless some other curse user slip up and went on a monologue.

This guy was dead serious on something. Maybe killing you slowly? Cause the way his hand grip tightly against the saw that he switched out was alarming. Gun slipped into his back pocket, he approached quickly.

"You had the time to steal some pants too, amazing." You pull out your gun and aimed for him and that's when he turned aggresive, his saw swinged quite hard and you'd barely avoided a slice through the neck as he roared.

His eyes were rolled to the back of his head as you shot his chest twice and he gurgled.

"Give me back my life!!" His yell was quite distorted, it was obvious enough that he was a curse out for blood but why you? Could it be because you did the autopsy, that wasn't great considering you weren't even the killer.

You pull out a knife from your thigh strap and stabbed his throat, bringing up to his face so the blade came out through his nose. Some blood got onto you but you yanked yourself away from him and he chokes on his own blood.

He shouted out a "No!" and made a clean slash at your waist which you shrieked to. You gave a hard kick to his stomach making him fall before running away from him. You turned many corners, clutching your bleeding waist in such pain. You quickly added bullets in before shooting back. It dettered him a bit but he regenerates quickly that it was crazy. There was some cursed energy in your weapons but how strong was this man's thirst for vengeance?

"Fuck, you have to be shitting me." You were getting lightheaded, the cut was deep and it was torturous.

Suddenly, a figure zoomed behind you and you gasped as you were thrown over their shoulder like a sack of potatos. The hand squeezed a bit of your ass and you sputtered in pain and shock.

It was Fushiguro, he was so damn fast.. so this was his abilities.

"Thought you'd be better at holding off on your own but I shouldn't expect much from a little helper." He teased with such a sultry drawl in his voice that you couldn't help but punch his back. He chuckled, such a sweet thing. He should've let it drag on a bit longer. Just to see you wince in pain, call him a sadist. He puts you down near a wall before settling the fight with the curse that was chasing you.

"[Name], shit." Shiu was there thankfully, he almost tore your blouse apart as he dabbed up the blood and wrapped bandages around your waist. You shifted a bit in your spot and handled the rest of the bandaging yourself and rested against the wall. You faintly snicker, seeing your boss so worried about you made something tickle inside you. He grabbed your face, nearly shouting at you in exasperation.

"You're a dunce, you know that?"

You shrugged like normal.

"How else would I contact you, sir? You were breaking up in call." He sighed, examining he two lines left at both sides of your eyes. He argued that this wasn't your usual route to go back to the centre anyways, a place with more people would be better for you to be at. The only thing you can utter is that yhings just happen and there was nothing else to do.

Shiu and you watched as Toji strutted back to the both of you. He was really handsome for a poor man, it was humourous. He had the ego with it too.

Toji's hand wind back to toss you something and it was a ring with initials dented on it.

"Looks farmiliar?" He smirked at you as you looked at the entirety of the ring.

"Yeah.. unfortunately." The initials matched the new mission you passed to Toji an hour ago. It couldn't be just a coincidence, it was another familial issued bounty just like the first.

"You'll be seeing more of me then, pipsquek." His eyes gleamed with satisfaction at the irritation you couldn't hide. He squished your head in his hand and moved past Shiu and you. While Shiu went to catch up with Toji who was too quick to go, you let out one last deep sigh for the day.

"Cowabummer."

----

a/n: clap with your cheeks if you guys want a part 2 jk the only thing i can think of is toji begging shiu kong for a dollar so lets see

[heloflor]

Thinking about Toad!Peach performing at the Sparkle theater wearing the Sparklas outfits (for Dashing Thief it might be weird having the hat with her mushroom cap so she could instead have her cap colored after said hat).

[dylanconrique]

it's been far too long since i last had a parking garage scene.

[girlwithfish]

i only had two friends in hs and thats a lot but it was for under two yrs and then i talked to no one for the restof hs after i moved. i dont understand people who can be in big friend groups it seems a little exhausting but nice if theres no drama and such. i think id like a small friend group but i made no friends at college 😭 i also barely had friends in middle school. i think its just been hard for me to make friends in general and maybe that makes me a loser but im pretty content w isolating myself as an adult and adult friendships are harder to find. i could have tried harder at the hs i finished hs at but i spent 3-4 yr just being alone and listening to music and going to class and talking to no one

[dadbots]

cold as shit & freezing my ass off in this winter (But at least we made it to December.)

[pen-papers]

I’m really in the mood to draw some like....really detail flower settings. It’d be hellish rendering time but man....i’m just in that mood you know? I want to draw dew drops and gentle scenes...relaxing meadows....shadow dappled groves...you get what I mean?

just a myriad of ideas i want to enact on soon

[straykats]

i want to talk about what i want to write about but i also dont want to confess and immortalise/acknowledge how personal such a piece would be for me

[ultramantr1gger]

i cant even properly make vent art because it all looks too stupid!! hehe!!! bashes my skull in with a metal pipe

[shotmrmiller]

johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.

he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.

and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.

the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.

a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)

"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."

excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."

"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."

you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—

"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.

"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."

-

damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.

he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.

you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.

lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.

double damn.

"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—

"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."

when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.

-

the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.

simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—

his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.

the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.

"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."

somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.

"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"

the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.

he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.

the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.

as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.

"hush."

you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"

you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.

wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.

the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.

"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.

"gonna beg?"

the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.

you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."

the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.

"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.

he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.

and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.

"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.

"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—

the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.

"ya with me?"

you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.

"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.

simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—

"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?

"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.

"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."

he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.

his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.

he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."

that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.

his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.

your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.

"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."

your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—

and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.

"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."

there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.

simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"

he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.

simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.

"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.

it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.

simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—

"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."

there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.

"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."

a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.

you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.

your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.

your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.

(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)

his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.

and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."

"pet."

"please stop looking at me like that."

he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.

"make me."

-

as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.

your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.

when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.

good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.

sent 5:30 am

about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.

sent 5:49 am